#idk it just shows how disconnected we are n i just like him less n less

[stolaz-the-artist]

Murder drones au pt 2

Long awaited follow up for my murder drones au, of which was kindly requested by @burgertron17.

I appreciate the patients you've had with me, I and I apologize for the wait. But enough talk, lets get into it.

⚠️Spoiler warning for murder drones. Duh⚠️

lot of text ahead. like A LOT! beware!

So first an explanation of how the timeline is played out in comparison to murder drones canon.

Macy isn't really "bullied" in the same sense Uzi is, but she does experience a disconnect with the other kids. There is a rumor going around that she's half disassembly drone, which would explain why she's so tall. This one singular rumor is why she isn't outright bullied, they're low-key kinda scared of her.

The gun incident goes as followed in the canon. Aaron and Lance walk by and see Macy is hurt. Macy talks about the outdoors and how she's planning on sneaking out to get the last part she needs for her gun to actually work. Bottom panel of the lance drawing plays out here.

As the exit the outer door Aaron makes an off comment of "I bet Lance is worried sick." Hard cut to top left corner of Lance drawing, insert elevator esque like music. Hard cut back Aaron and Macy. Moment of silence. Macy says "Eh we'll make it quick.

They find the piece and blah blah blah.

Ok I'm not gonna write every single change I made cuz that will make this post wayyyy to long. now I don't even know if posts have a word limit but I don't wanna find out. Also cuz. didn't change overly a lot, most of the stuff still goes the same way. Its not a roots deep au like my other ones.

Instead of Clays comment that everyone thinks hes useless and terrible he just casually flexes how many kills hes gotten, followed by an awkward laugh, showing how he isn't actually enjoying any of it. Instead of him telling Wanda his name he just says "welp, guess I'll stay guard and . . . look for other drones. or something. Also cut out the whole crush comment cuz in this context ew. Just have him stare into space is sum idk. Also In the J flashback just have them have a very awkward conversation, and right when Clay is about to ask him something he flies off. Keep Jestro as the leader or not Idk

instead of Clay firing hearts (cuz that would be weird) just a puff of smoke comes out. He's too tense too shoot her. he says ". . .Listen! im sure we can talk it out like civilized-" And then the bomb. or rocket. whatever it is.

Obviously Jestro is a lot less menacing and brash. Where the failed monologue comes in he more so only apologizes and tries to brush it off in a "don't take this personally" manner

only difference in episode two is that Lance, Aaron and Axl is there. Place them in any situation as you please. Expect when chad or whatever his name is almost dies. that's Aaron.

It's Fletch and Izzy who try and give Macy a make over. Fletch is probably speaking English thought. Also obviously they're a lot less mean and any off putting comments is Izzy trying to seem cool. She looks up to Macy.

Axl isn't in the room when the attack happens. Returns right after, gets rather angry cuz rightfully so- all his hard work has been destroyed. Lance comforts him with a pat on the back.

Lance was the one who tried to get Wanda killed. Ended up saving her. they bond. they're besties now.

Didnt change anything for ep 3. Oh expect the hot comment. Lance instead says. "Dramatic. . . Justified reaction? . . he doesn't appreciate you enough"

Where N is, Wanda is instead. Given how Clay and Fletch was built after everything. Monstrous as Cyn. Marlok as Tessa. And Jestro as J. Macy ended up hacking into Wanda and then connected Clay into it so he could see what happened too.

Not much change for episode 6. I dunno who the souther creepster is. Didn't even make a sketch. I might. probably won't. If you have any suggestion do tell.

During the Flashback in episode 7 we obviously have Hama (Queen halbert) and the other one I didn't think much for either. So place whoever there too. Yet again, if you have any suggestions, do tell.

Where Doll gets killed Wanda rescues Fletch last second. Monstrous could barley figure out what happened and decided that he has more important things to do.

If you ship Clay x Macy, keep it the same, if not, change it to "Are best friends. we hang out a lot." Or something. I dunno

Not much change for the finale. The reason Clay is scared is mainly cuz he just knows what hes capable of from his mom's memories. "Wanda says: Its monstrous! You know, from when- you know what I mean!

Where we get the flashback of doll dying instead have Fletch enter the room. Izzy says "Woah! Cool limbs! How that happen" Fletch lets out a "um . . " Flash back of him waking up with the new limbs and then experiencing a existential crisis. He shrugs and says "Its a long story"

Yeah that's about it for the story. Now for some behind the scenes stuff!

Pilot C

His mother build him after the explosion. He's actual defective (He's a lot shorter) But he was so good at his job they just let him be, in fear of fixing him would change it.

Clay: *Liiiick*

Clay: Oh please don't run, if I miss then this will just be more painful. Ill make it quick!

Fletch (Actually F)

W lost him during an attack. He was raised by worker drones. He isn't very confident with his limbs and is a bit clumsy. (robots built to be JUST disassembly drones don't work well with worker drone limbs.

He was attacked by AD (Absolute destruction) but W saved him last second and gave him proper limbs

F (after being converted) He still hasn't fully figured how to make everything work, but he's already gaining confidence within himself

Macy

Daughter to Eggred who built the bunker. Freezer out because she's weirdly tall and gets called a "Wannabe disassembly drone"

Macy: Shit

Aaron: I mean, he seems . . . fun sized?

Aaron: Ok so not fun

Macy: You think!?

And now for some extra stuff!

This was the initially requested casting. I couldn't quite make it work while still keeping stuff rather canon. But I made some sketches for how they would and or could look like. Oh and a drawing page for more Merlok as Tessa

More canon Clay worker drone

More Uzi leaning Clay worker drone + feat my "joke" scene Clay hc

N jestro (Just gave him a hat lol) Wanda as Nori

Kinda gave up (Not kind, I just gave up)

Merlok Moorington

Merlok: This extension looks amazing! We're matching now! I swear in another universe we're siblings.

Merlok: If you could have a family, what would their names be?

Wanda: You're my family!

Merlok: He he, of course! But other than me

Wanda: Hm . . . Clay and Fletcher.

Merlok: Hm . . I like those names.

Only child of the Moorington family. Only friends are the worker drones. Mom hates that hat, but he refuses to take it off. Mom gave up eventually

Merlok: It wants paid time off . . . to attend Union Negotiations!

Wanda: THIS IS A UNRELATED LAYOFF!

AND BOOM! we're done! Thanks so much again for all the patience! Been having a lost of work and test as of late, and I wanted to have the time to properly write all of this.

[wamiandayne]

no because like. warning this is so long keeping most of it under the cut for all of our sakes anne rice would be shocked

becoming a priest was lestat's [first] escape. it is where he finally got the (positive) attention his mother (and father, and brothers) denied from him. its where he was taught to read and told for the first time that he was good. thats unbelievably powerful.

he had no power at home. he was the seventh son, the third living one. they were penniless and unloving and neglectful. lestat knew from a young age that he had no use, no meaning, no love. but then he goes somewhere that not only pays attention to him, tells him that he is worthwhile and actually nurtures him. the idea that someone (even god) loves him unconditionally just because he exists is like. thats outrageous. thats unheard of. not even his own mother loves him like that, if, to his 12 year old brain, at all.

this is even more delicious because [in canon] lestat never really believed in god; not even when he was at the monastery. lestat in general has a really complicated devastating relationship with god. just like extrapolating but i think he was kind of catholic but i dont think gabrielle or the marquis ever fostered that kind of relationship w god in any of their children, let alone lestat. to lestat god is a sort of ambigious Thing. a Concept with Weight and Eyes and Power. he believes in god, because how can you not, but it isnt really. Real. not to mention hes like. 10. But in the monastery hes taught love n especiallt Love Through God. after he loses that connection in the monastery to his. idk. support system where he had learned to connect religion with love and recognition in show he talks about returning to his family and having that religion beaten and starved out of him, and of course being utterly demolished by the fact that god doesnt save him. the dissonance lestat has with religion makes up a lot of his character in religion, like it does in anne rice's life and the overall complexity that comes w being a christian[-adjacent] when it comes to experiencing any sort of trauma. I am rambling. Where was i. So if we dont remove lestat from this environment. If the marquis simply forgot him and left him to rot in the hands of the church, lestat learns like. Godliness. Priestly-ness. Idk shit abt catholicism or 18th century monasteries bear with me. Lestat at heart is begging for attention. For Love. For Anything. all attention is good attention for him.

i think that even if he wasnt removed from this place, he wouldnt suddenly believe fully and truly in god. or at least in religion. i think he would try. i think he would devote himself fully and try, so, so hard to be what he is told god wants him to be, but theres just some kind of fundamental disconnect between him and the sort of all-consuming, totally unshakeable faith he Should have in The Bible. in God. The Whole Thing. his relationship with religion is so complex and nuanced that the 1700s wouldnt even be able to handle it. but lestat is still a performer at heart, even if he never ran off to join a troupe of actors in this . well. thought experiement. so he plays the part of the most loving beautiful sheep in the world. jesus himself would be in awe of lestats devotion. but in his heart, lestat knows its fake. so thats just like, a new level of religious . well. trauma i suppose. for him.

especially as hes wrestling with some latent homosexual tendencies i think he still meets nicki and they kiss and stuff n lestat accidentally ruins nickis life cause they get caught but no one would ever, ever think Lestat de Lioncourt would be up to Such Horrid Depravity so nicki like runs off to paris in shame (surprise tool that will help us later) and then i think there is some sort of stand in for magnus with a shitty predatorial priest or bishop or some shit and the metaphor of lestats turning is less metaphorical than we would all personally like it to be etc i could go on for a While but like. Later.

the picture we need 2 have of lestat is thus: a Surprisingly young priest, outwardly charming and disarming. he's humble; subservient, the way priests should be. (im presuming. subservient to god snd community. idk. ive never met a priest.) altogether not very intelligent or worldly, but with a fondness for those who can play the violin and an encyclopedic knowledge of scripture. much beloved and easily reduced to tears. a perfect shepherd for gods children.

internally though. a tormented young man, convinced there is something wrong with him and that if hell were real theres a cage with his name on it. someone who feels... abandoned, and misunderstood, and fake. someone with no control over his life and no one to turn to.

In walks the Louis of it all.

believe it or not there are still vampires. idk if i like it more that louis is on his european soul search... post-claudia? (who i cannot decide the place of in this au. i like a grown up claudia, a sister for louis and abandoned fledgling of their maker who has recently decided to hate and abandon him. or maybe shes dead, post killing their maker. or maybe shes still not yet born, and louis baby traps lestat in this one. (which would be insane btw. claudia awakening maternal instincts in lestat he didnt know existed, given how gabrielle treated him. louis turning lestats words on him- youre like a mother. youre like your mother.) Honestly i think lestat still baby traps louis. I talk like this is a story that will exist and not just a thought experiment for me and my best friend ben) or maybe lestat is sent overseas to new orleans or maybe louis has all that fucked up history with armand (who is in paris at this time) and hes just trying to escape for a minute in fuckin. auvergne. Idk. idc. louis and lestat meet and it is like a fucking car crash.

louis is, of course, catholic and tormented. louis stumbles into the church at 1 am when lestat is supposed to be cleaning or asleep but is jnstead staring at the moon smoking a cigarette or something or maybe lestat is praying and grappling with his own faith and is enraptured with this beautiful, bizarre, man who is asking for confession when lestat isnt even frocked (this is funny wording just take it) and then they get there and louis is like. bless me father for i have sinned. forgive me father because i am going to sin again. i have killed. i will kill again. quite possibly this beautiful young priest who frankly smells delicious and will haunt my every waking dream for months.

jokes. louis doesnt come on that strong. he just says hes done something terrible and he will do it again, and lestat is fascinated. the worst sins people ever want to confess to are- what? coveting thy neighbors wife? nothing awful. nothing so horrible as to not explain. nothing so delicious as this.

so obviously lestat falls in love instantly and wishes to forgive louis everything if only so they can have some wild passionate love affair or skmething. lestat wants to either dissect him or be dissected, frankly.

but louis Hates that shit. he wants torment. he wants shock and horror. he wants fear and to be feared and to have someone else hate him just as much as he hates himself. sadly! no lestat could ever hate a louis, especially not one so... repressed. shenanigans ensue. lestat begs to be turned. lestat is both claudia and madeline . lestat is daniel . lestat wants to be free. louis does not want to be responsible. etc.

theres more. theres so much more. i just cant get into it here. its too long

i know that he got pulled out of priest school at age 12 but like. what if lestat had been a priest. what if louis was a tormented vampire looking for compassion and a release from sin. what if..... no. i shant say

[missmalaysia]

what wud u do if ur bf said that ur as self entitled as ur abusive mom. [5marks]

[italian-pastry]

BNHA Kid Headcanons

(For @yourwildflowerbouquet )

KIRIBAKU

-Eijirou had always wanted a lot of kids

-and Katsuki can't say no to his husband

-so there's 5 of them

-(damn 5 whole children)

-their kids call them Papa (Eijirou) and Dad (Katsuki)

-the first one is a girl

-she's just a copy-paste katsuki (personality wise) but with a better attitude

-they were figuring out how to raise kids

-they did pretty well, I think

-Her quirk is Fragmentation (She can make spikes on her body, then shoot them off like missles)

-her name is Mieko (Already Prosperous)

-the second one was a boy

-he ended up much more like Eijirou

-overall a radical little dude

-his quirk is Lavanic (he secretes lava like how Mina secretes acid)

-his name is Akio (Bright Man; Manly; Hero)

-(wow so original)

-the third one was born a male but she's more comfortable identifying as a girl so she's a she and that's that

-suprisingly timid for being raised by Katsuki and Eijirou

-also surprisingly, she still manages to be more like Katsuki whilst being timid

-passionate, stubborn, probably has some sort of complex, etc.

-her quirk is Pressure Blow (she hardens her own skin, but not as strong as Eijirou can, and when it breaks, there's an explosion)

-her name is Hiroki (Bright; Hope)

-the last two are twins

-which really surprised Katsuki

-"wtf why are there two"

-"well, kat, there is such a thing as twins"

-there is a girl and boy

-katsuki was horrified when his mom told him that the girl acted just like he did when he was a baby

-the boy is much more chill

-he just wants to play sports is that such a crime?

-the girl's quirk is Explosion (can send out a burst of energy like an explosion) and the boy's is Implosion (Explosion but in reverse)

-the girl's name is Kana (Powerful) and the boy's name is Tatsuhiro (Dragon, Immense Power)

-they're one big happy family

-Mieko has fully sharp teeth (like Eijirou) and the twins have partially sharp teeth

TODODEKU

-Shouto was worried when Izuku brought up the prospect of having kids

-he didn't want to fuck them up because he had a terrible dad

-"Izuku you didn't have a dad and I wish I didn't have a dad we're gonna fuck up this poor kid"

-Izuku respected his wishes and accepted the fact that they probably wouldn't have kids

-until Shouto had a chat with Natsuo (after Natsu became a dad)

-"Here's how I think of it, little bro; I'm gonna be the best fucking dad to this kid to show Endeavor that no matter how badly he fucked me up, I can still be happy with a better family than he will ever have"

-that certainly changed Shouto's perspective on things

-"oh yeah don't forget to have a good support system and do research on how to raise a kid or idk ask someone with actually good parents ok good luck buddy"

-So Shouto was lile "hey maybe we can try this kid thing out I did research and I'm feeling a bit more confident in my ability to raise a human"

- Izuku: :DD

-So they had a son!

-He's real chill (he's the mom friend and proud of it)

-imagine Shouto's overall chillness, but with Izuku's caring nature

-his quirk is Half-Flurry Half-Firework (he can make snow from one side of his body and sparks from the other)

_his name is Toshi, for obvious reasons

-(All Might cried)

-Izuku was like "look at how well we're doing with our son! Man, we we're worried over nothing!"

-"let's have another"

-"what"

-"you heard me"

-so they had another!

-Poor girl was born with the curse of blue eyes and red/pink hair

-Shouto was happy that she at least got Izuku's freckles to balance it out

-Homegirl is just Izuku minus anxiety

-she'd be unstoppable if she really tried

-her quirk is Thermostat (she can raise or lower the temperature of the air around her)

-her name is Arakan (Worthy One; Hero)

-Izuku: Wow I love our kids and how not screwed up they are :D

-Shouto: one more

-Izuku: wha

-Shouto: Just one more

-So they had one more

-she's a very good girl

-very respectful and sweet

-her quirk is black ice (ice, but black)

-her name is Youdai (Gentle; Shine)

- The kids call their parents Chichi (Izuku) and Daifu (Shouto)

-Sometimes called 'Chi' and 'Dai'

-These kids have 1 (one) grandpa and his name is Toshinori and he's their favorite

-The kids' grandmas are also very popular in this household

TSUYURAKA

-Ochako was pretty excited to have kids

-And tsu wanted them too so it all worked out

-They had a son first!

-he's a sweet boy who loves everyone and has a deep passion for life

-he does fall on the autism spectrum, but he works hard to not let that hold him back

-Tsu and Ochako are very supportive of their boy

-his quirk is Space Boy (He can increase or lower the amount of gravity affecting himself or anything he kicks)

-his name is Takiyo (waterfall)

-fun fact: he has half-n-half hair (half brown half green)

-their second child is a beautiful girl

-she's sisterly and energetic

-she doesn't really "get" hero culture and the desire for that lifestyle

-her quirk is Frog Morph (she can turn into a frog)

-her quirk is pretty plain, but she doesn't care

-her name is Ezumo (Fountain; cloud)

-Ochako and Tsu didn't have another kid for some time for no one reason

-but they did have another!

-he's a wittle itsy bitsy baby boy!

-he has a moon birthmark around his left eye

-AND heterochromia

-(man their kids have alot of half-n-half bastard traits)

His quirk is Orbit (anything he touches starts to orbit around himself)

-His name is Tsuki (Moon), but he's nicknamed Usagi (Rabbit)

- the kids call their moms Haha (Ochako) and Mama (Tsuyu)

-Since Ochako and Tsuyu didn't take each other's last names, their kids have alternating last names

-Takiyo and Tsuki have the Asui last name, and Ezumo has the Uraraka last name

SHINKAMISERO

-Denki and Hanta were the ones most excited to have kids at first, and Hitoshi was like 'cool go nuts I'll help raise them'

-So, biologically, their first kid's parents are Hanta and Denki

-but he's still very close to Hitoshi

-he looks and acts a lot like Hanta

-he's an all around sk8r boi

-his quirk is Electric Tape (basically Hanta's quirk but he can send and harness electricity via his tape)

-His name is Takeo (Warrior)

-one day when he was young, he had a really bad nightmare, and the only one of his dads awake was Hitoshi (since he's an insomniac)

-Hitoshi listened to his boy's rambling, and told him that no matter what monster or villain comes after him, he promises that he'd always protect him

-but one day, some B-tier villains broke into their home while Hanta and Denki were out doing Hero things

-Hitoshi tried to take them down, but they anticipated fighting him and had a strategy to take him down and ended up knocking him out

-when he was woken up by the police, they discovered that Takeo had been taken by the villains

-for five days, the villains had held him for ransom

-and for those five days, Hitoshi worked literally non-stop to try and track down and rescue Takeo

-after those five days, they ended up paying the ransom, and Takeo was returned to the police and his family safely

-except for a large gash on his shoulder he got during the initial break-in

-the whole event deterred Hitoshi from having more kids

-he was very anxious about being there for Takeo, and Hanta and Denki understood that

-so he and his husbands didn't have kids for like 15 years

-at this point, Takeo is a teenager, more independent, and is stronger/can tale care of himself

-Hitoshi feels better now about being able to put his attention elsewhere (focus less on Takeo)

-so he brought up to his husbands "Hey, do ya maybe wanna have another kid?"

-and they were like "omigosh yeah totally yes let us have another child"

-and there were twins!

-one boy and one girl!

-Hitoshi was just as confused as Baku when twins showed up

-"hol' up I only signed up for 1 kid not 2"

-"too bad they're yours"

-"Two for the price of one!" <- that's Hanta

-Biologically speaking, both of them are Hitoshi's, but the boy has Denki's DNA and the girl has Hanta's

-the boy has a resting bitch face and cries a lot

-the girl has resting sad face, but she's actually pretty cool

-the boy's quirk is Electroshock Therapy (mostly like Denki's quirk, except when he shocks you, you're under his control) and the girl's name is Mind Bind (it looks like Deku's Black Whip, except whenever it wraps around someone, they're under her control)

-the boy's name is Masashi (Commander; General) and the girl's name is Maemi (Honest Child)

-it's a bit weird for Takeo to have newborn siblings, but he loves them regardless!

-the kids call their dads Dad (Hitoshi), Pop (Denki), and Dada (Hanta)

AOMINA

-since I HC that Yuuga is graysexual, he didn't really vibe with kids for a while after they were married

-but Mina was totally fine with that!

-"hey it means I can still say fuck in my own house it's cool it's cool"

-although when Mina expressed further interest in kids a bit down the line, Yuuga was like "mmmmokay why not"

-and they had a girl!

-she has pink skin and weird eyes like Mina, but blonde hair and purple eyes like Yuuga!

-she also doesn't have horns

-she's very much like Mina

-she comes off as narcissistic at times, but she just has enough self-confidence for two people

-her quirk is Glo Splash (from one side of her body, she secretes one of the chemicals that make up the liquid in glow sticks, and the other half of her secretes the other chemical. She can mix them together to make it glow!)

-her name is Minako (child of Mina)

-Mina is not allowed to name their children anymore

-so when their son is born, Yuuga named him

-he got pink hair and horns and yellow eyes, but normal skin and normal eyes

-he's oddly very timid and anxious, which gives him a disconnect from the rest of his outgoing family

-his quirk is Lazer Horn (he can shoot lasers like Yuuga's from his horns)

-his name is Yukio (Snow Boy)

-the kids have hyphenated last names (Ashido-Aoyama) as opposed to having only one last name like their parents

-the most fab family has matching names: Yuuga and Yukio, Mina and Minako

-both the kids are fluent in French, and know snippets of English (we stan multilingual families)

-the kids call their parents Père (Yuuga) and Mama (Mina)

HAGOJIROU

-since Tooru was already pregananant when they got married, their first kid was quite a tad older than the majority of their Classmate's kids

-eh it's fine tho

-the first kid was a beautiful girl!

-due to her quirk, she likes to wear bright, complex clothing as to not go unnoticed

-she also makes a point to talk relatively loudly especially when in crowds

-her quirk is Ninja (physically, she is only an outline. She cannot be seen if she is standing still or the person looking for her doesn't know she's there)

-her name is Chieko (child blessed with wisdom)

-they had a second child a few years later on

-a boy!

-his fav hero is Ground Zero (to Mashirao's dismay)

-anyone who says otherwise can catch these hands

-he is also a woman respecter 100% through and through

-he can and will kick ass

-his quirk is Invisishift (he can turn himself invisible)

-kinda plain, but he loves it!

-his name is Ryuji (Dragon Child)

-A couple years after that (7-8 years or so) they had one more kid

-yet another boy!

-he's a lot like his mom (likes pranks, friendly, just a cool dude)

-he has really poofy curly hair

-his quirk is Tail (it's just Mashirao's quirk idk what to tell y'all)

-his name is Taishiro (Ambitious Boy)

-(i JUST learned that he shares his name with Fat Gum that was not planned I promise)

-all the kids can kick ass

-"Martial arts is an excellent form of exercise for children!" <- Mashirao

-the kids call their parents Mum (Tooru) and Pops (Mashirao)

-everyone's last name is Ojirou

MOMOJIROU

-Momo was really excited to have kids when their friends started announcing their pregnancies/having kids

-Baby Fever if you will

-Kyouka also wanted kids, but wasn't as outwardly excited as Momo

-and they had twiiiiiiiins

-also one boy and one girl

-because apparently there can't be same-sex twins in my headcanons

-the girl is more like Kyouka

-kinda punk, wants to be a hero, all that jazz (haha music)

-the boy is more like Momo

-elegant, charismatic, wants to go into Hero Management

-the girl's quirk is Stereo Heart (she has earphone jacks, and can play any sound she's ever heard, plus combinations) and the boy's is Bass Boost (he also has earphone jacks, but he can only alter his heartbeat (increase bass, vibrato, ect.))

-the girl's name is Satoshi (Intelligent History) and the boy's is Utano (Field Of Songs)

-both the kids are musically talented and very smart

-thanks for the great talents, moms!

-the kids call their parents Mom (Kyouka) and Mama (Momo)

-sometimes Kyouka and Momo can't tell which parent the kid is calling for, so they usually both yelling back (or the wrong one)

-it's a whole process to get the attention of the mom you want

-"HEY MOM"

-"YEAH?"

-"NO NOT YOU, MAMA, I SAID M O M"

[coffee-for-himchan]

Silent Treatment (Daehyun x reader)

Requested by: a nice anon

Word count: 4 k+

Genre/warnings: fluffy fluff ❤ (so sorry for letting my inner hopeless romantic slip completely while writing this - it just happened)

Summary: He was your source of true happiness, the one to always keep a more or less visible smile plastered all across your face - your one and only loving boyfriend, Jung Daehyun. But more than that, he was a bundle of annoying screams and badly thought out, clumsy moves. So once he did wrong and you decided to punish him with silent treatment for a little, he figured putting on a “cute mode” would be the most convenient way to get you to talk to him again. Which wasn’t far from being the truth, because he was oh so irresistible in any case, any day, really.

(A/N) I just melted into a puddle of feels while writing this. Not sure what triggered it, but I’m dead basically. Idk what can revive me now.

He was up to something once again, and you figured you had a mild idea in mind of what it could possibly be.

Out of all of the people on this planet, why did you have to fall in love with him? He was about the worst and the best person to love at the same time, and you were still trying to wrap your mind around this philosophy of yours - it was the best way you could describe it, even if the statement came in conflict with itself. He caused you so much trouble usually - well, not that you minded most of the times, as it wasn’t “trouble trouble”, but just the playful type of trouble that could be fixed up without breaking a sweat. But this time around he’d really done wrong, and his method of coping and searching for forgiveness wasn’t anything unusual, yet you silently chuckled at it because of how unusual it was for him.

He sure knew how to look cute. And he’d figured that this time around this was his one and only strong weapon that he could use against the silent treatment you’d decided to put him through.

“(Y/N)~~” he wandered into the room, looking like a lost, guilty puppy. His soft, puffy lips were curled up in a pout, and his eyes showed deep sadness and regret. He kept fiddling around with his fingers, taking unsure steps towards you at a slow pace. If anyone saw him now, they’d truly feel sorry and would take him in for asap hugs in seconds. Little did they know this was far from being his true face. He was playing a well thought-out game in order to make it seem like he really regretted what he’d done. Which he sure did, but his sudden guilt and shyness didn’t come from that. It came from this persona he’d put on - the complete opposite of the usually loud and bubbly Daehyun. The quiet, regretful Daehyun. The one who tried to make you feel guilty for not talking to him.

“(Y/N), are you still mad?” he asked, his voice relatively high pitched, sounding as innocent as ever. He must’ve noticed the amused stare you gave from the corners of your eyes, and took it as a green light. His method was showing itself to be effective. He was cute and you were melting into a puddle because of it. A puddle of forgiveness.

“(Y/N)~~” he kept calling in a pouty tone, making himself comfortable on the couch next to you. You turned away to your left side, seeming not to notice his presence, which made him let out the cutest noise of disapproval you’d ever heard. God, he had the voice of an angel for a reason, right? To say your name in the most different pitches and tones possible, and to make your heart race by different little noises he made here and there, expressing his feelings towards the situation. This was so.. Daehyun.

“You can’t keep ignoring me forever,” you felt his frame pressing against yours lightly, until at some point he rested almost all of his weight on you, wrapping an arm around you and putting his head on your shoulder carefully.

“Or maybe you can, but I’ll then keep on tagging along forever until you start talking to me again.”

To be honest, you didn’t mind. Lovely, cuddly Daehyun was your forte, and you were lowkey thankful that this fight resulted in nothing but a cute after-the-storm scenario. No plates were smashed this time around and no one left the house to go and cool down for a few hours before crawling back to the other person, regret written all over your faces as you exchanged phrases of being sorry.

You two took it rather playfully this time around, which was enough for you to consider forgiving him easily. Well, not that easily, but easily enough.

“You won’t be able to get anything done,” he continued babbling, his lips finding a soft spot on your skin and resting on it while he talked, sending warm shivers down your spine with every word he said, “I’m going to always bug you, you hear? Always, without exception.”

He started slowly planting soft kisses in the crook of your neck, and he thought he was slowly moving towards victory when he felt your body relaxing and warming into his. He continued at his desired, slow pace, murmuring all kinds of silly, annoying promises into your skin and now noticing how you lovingly chuckled under your breath at every single word he said.

“I won’t let you do work properly, okay?” he questioned softly, tightening his grip around you, “I won’t even let you get up to go to work. But if you somehow manage to do so, I’ll tag along, and I’ll hold your hand through the whole day, and I’ll tell your co-workers all of your embarrassing secrets. I know most of them probably involve me and the silly things I’ve done, but okay, I’ll suffer because of this. I’ll suffer in the name of love.”

Suffer in the name of love, oh God. He’s always been the talkative type, and this time around his sentences really made you chuckle, as you knew - if he really wanted to, he’d do it in the blink of an eye. Hell, he’d befriend your co-workers and gossip with them over lunch while you sat next to them, unable to keep up as he’d be center of attention and the number one gossiper in town. And he’d be telling them all about you - starting from how cute you snored to how you danced around in pajamas through the whole house to B.A.P’s songs when you thought he wasn’t around to witness. Knowing him, he’d even tell how he always appreciates your non-matching underwear, because you still look amazingly stunning in it. Not that you ever didn’t look stunning to him, to be honest.

“And I won’t let you do anything else as well until you forgive me, understood?” his tone had grown on you, and you really wanted to turn to him and stroke his hair. Tell him to act like this for a bit still, because you loved it so, so much. But you were a strong woman who had to hold her grounds. For a while still, at least.

“I won’t let you go and shower without tagging along, which, since you hate me now, you won’t allow to happen. So we’re just going to become gross and smelly if we stay here like this for days,” he had you chuckling a his absurd sentences.

“I won’t let you go and make diner, or breakfast, or anything else either. You’ll manage for ages probably, but I’ll starve within hours of not eating,” he said, considering for a bit.

“Or maybe not. I’ll let you cook, because if you don’t, this “clinging onto you forever” thing will end very soon. I’ll starve to death too soon and “forever” will be over in a day.”

Oh, he sure would, you were certain. If there was one thing that he claimed was just a tad bit less important than you were in his life, but you figured it actually shared the number one spot in his priorities list alongside with you, it was food. He ate everything, everywhere, always. And you kept on wondering how such a relatively tiny human being could eat so much.

“Do you really want me to starve to death?” he said in a shocked tone, lifting up his head and disconnecting his lips from your skin, quietly speaking into your ear as if he questioned your relationship as a whole now, “Me - your one and only loving boyfriend? The one who loves you so, so, so, soooo much, with, like, the whole of his heart? I swear, my heart’s bigger than my stomach. And you’ve got the whole of it.”

It was so sweet and, to be honest, you really felt like melting on spot. He knew exactly how to be perfectly cheesy, and how to hit your bare, exposed nerves, wiring them together with his and causing a wave of warm affection to travel all over your body. He knew exactly how to have you wrapped around his finger, and you didn’t mind. But you wanted him to suffer for a little longer.

“You’re really sentencing us to death here, do you understand,” he kept on talking, his hand how caressing your thigh up and down, “Because I won’t let go until you start talking to me. So I guess we’ll stay her like this forever.”

Forever in his arms actually sounded like such a pleasant thought. He hadn’t promised it to you yet in full seriousness, but even a situation like this, when he didn’t actually mean it, had you considering it with your whole heart. 

You and him - from now on until forever. Lazily poking him awake every morning just to get yourself squished under his weight, his voice purring into your ear softly, asking you to let him sleep for another ten minutes. Lazy kisses in the living room on cold afternoons, and cuddles in the kitchen in late evenings. Heated nights with a sweet aftertaste and the anticipation for more. And all of that lingering in the air until you’d lose track of time, and would only snap back to reality when you both would already be old and full of sleep. Looking back at all of the times - all of the crazy things that had happened during those years, and how you really didn’t mind having spent your whole life by his side. Remembering your first awkward meeting, and the first shy but surprisingly pleasant kiss. The first time you allowed yourself to call him your boyfriend - then the first time you called him your fiancee and, after what seemed like ages - your husband. How he freaked out completely before the birth of your first child, and how he freaked not a tad bit less than that before the birth of your second. How you, at some point, understood you were getting too old for certain things, but would never get too old to love each other, never hesitating to let the other person know how you still meant the world to each other. How he had always been the best that had ever happened to you, and would remain that forever...

.. You’d painted a vivid image in your head for sure, and it didn’t seem even a little weird to you. You were certain it all was still to come, and many years from now you’ll find yourself recalling it all just like that.

And recalling how cute he was when he begged for forgiveness like he did now.

“Come on, I know you looove meee,” he continued begging and pouting, his lips back on your skin, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your shoulder that he had managed to expose in the process, without you noticing, “I’m sowwy. Not simply sorry, but sowwy. That’s a whole new level of “sorry”. It means like “extra sorry”, or something among those lines.”

You shifted in his arms, and his eyes shot up to inspect your face within seconds. He was already celebrating his victory, anticipating anything at least half as cute from you. You cupping his face with both hands and playfully scolding him while he lazily nodded through half-open eyelids at every one of your statements - that seemed like it would be just about appropriate. Or you telling him anything really would do - he was running out of phrases by now, and needed you to say something so he had a thing to respond to.

Yet when he loosened his grip to let you turn, you used the moment to stand up and depart from his welcoming embrace instead. He still had to wrap his mind around what was happening, and when he reacted, reaching for your hand, you were already gone, and all he could do was sit and admire how your hips gracefully swung from one side to the other as you made your way out of the room, leaving him alone and in silence. But not for long.

“(Y/N)~~” you heard your name being called again, this time louder, and had to remind yourself that the original idea was to keep on walking. To let him stay behind for a little while you made your way to the desired destination. You knew he’d be back within seconds, but at least you’d be able to walk over to a place you needed to be at. Maybe you could even do something with him distracting you like this. It sure would take all of your willpower, but you knew you’d get all the desired and craved attention and affection from him later in the evening. He’d shower you with it today, and hopefully tomorrow as well - seeing on how he felt extra guilty about the fight.

What was it even that you’d fought about? You recalled the conversation from before, and felt a little stupid, but hey - at least you’d let him know how you felt about his constant absence. You knew it wasn’t his fault, and you knew that even thought the phrase “I didn’t choose the idol life, the idol life chose me” couldn’t really be used by him, since it wasn’t quite true, he still wasn’t the one making up schedules. He was just following them, doing what he had to do in order to keep his career going. And you were aware that it meant having to push you back sometimes, making you his second priority rather than the first one, simply because he knew you could wait and you would understand.

He was way beyond overworked, so you didn’t really take it all that personal when he snapped. And he hadn’t been that harsh either, so you weren’t really all that angry at him. It was your fault and his fault - your for demanding something from him that he couldn’t change, and his for snapping. So you didn’t really have any hard feelings towards the situation. You figured you’d manage - you just wanted to tease him for a little.

You wanted to go and grab your phone before heading to type away at a work assignment on your laptop, and were sure you’ll manage to do it all before Daehyun would approach. Yet sudden noise behind you made you jump a little in surprise, and the next thing you knew something crashed into you full force, almost sending you flying to the ground.

“You can’t leave without me,” he cooed, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as his head rested on yours, his breath itching at your ear, “I’ll follow.”

You turned, giving him a disapproving glance and suddenly seeing how his eyes lit up. Oh no, the change of position had caused an idea to come to his mind. And you had absolutely no time to wonder about it as you felt your body being backed up against the wall, getting trapped in between it and Daehyun’s body.

“No escapeee~~” he leaned in, poking at your nose with his, “Absolutely no escape, until you forgive me.”

He let his face linger this close to yours, knowing exactly what type of effect he had on you. His hands traveled to cup your face lightly, and he watched carefully as your lips slowly parted and a sense of desire could be seen in your eyes. You weren’t mad. You were just playing along.

“Tell me, what else do I have to do to make it up?” he asked rather casually, tilting his head to the side as a small, gentle smile made it’s way to his lips, “I just want to let you know that I’m aware I did wrong. And I regret my actions.”

You closed your eyes as you felt his lips on your forehead, leaving a firm kiss on a spot he’d learned to love especially over the years. He knew how pleasant and nerve-tingling you found his kisses to be, and he was using his most effective method of torture once again - he was going painfully slow at it, but making all of his movements seem like they really mattered. It took him long enough to press his lips fully against your skin, and even longer to remove them. But that only added to his aesthetic, and made you anticipate every kiss a little more. That’s exactly how big his advantage was - he knew the ways to treat you, and knew how to win you over. How to make you feel more than simply alright and at home by his simple touch.

“I really do,” he was slowly kissing down your nose, and smiled a little as your hands reached to tug on his shirt ever so lightly, yet fell back on your sides the second you realized what you were doing. Just a little more, and you’ll give in, he was certain.

“I shouldn’t have snapped, not at the person who’s always just wishing the best for me,” he kissed the very tip of your nose, and you silently hoped your lips would be next, yet slight disappointment arose inside your chest as he moved onto your cheek instead, and you hoped he didn’t notice.

“You’re always so nice to me, and you’re always putting up with me when I’m being bad-tempered,” he moved onto your jawline, and was a little surprised by how he still hadn’t managed to trigger a proper reaction from you with his actions, “I know I’ve been acting the wrong way more than simply a lot recently, and you’re still forgiving me every single time it happens.”

He was at your chin now, and as he pulled away a little, you figured he wanted you to look at him. So you slowly opened your heavy eyelids, glancing at his pretty face and resisting hard not to cup it in your hands.

“I’m still sowwy, you know,” he leaned in and kissed the very corner of your mouth, waiting  and making his presence seem oh so passionate, “So, so sowwy,” he murmured, yet refused to give you a proper kiss, continuing to test your nerves and tease the hell out of you. 

Hell, if there was one thing that you hated about yourself, it was how weak you were for this man. And as you felt your guard crumbling completely under the touch of his lips almost covering yours and his hands back on your hips, sneakily placed a little under your shirt so you’d feel his cold touch against your hot skin and how hard he gripped on it, you figured you’d lost already. Not to mention you didn’t really mind losing this time around.

“Jung Daehyun, you either kiss me the right way now or you leave me alone.”

And he didn’t need to hear it twice, and didn’t need any further instruction or time to consider. He obeyed immediately, like the good boy he was, and gave you exactly what you wanted, in the form of a firm kiss on your lips.

The taste of you - oh God, he loved it so much, and found himself completely drowning in an empty space that was completely filled and coated in it, with nothing there but the two of you. He’d always been confident in his kisses, partly because he had such a big advantage when it came to the shape and size of his lips, but he always felt so small and insignificant every time his lips met with yours. He suddenly considered if he was good enough for you, if he was doing everything right - all because he wasn’t really able to keep track of his movements and actions while kissing you. You were the first person he had ever kissed in a full auto-pilot state, since all his senses left him at the encounter with you, and he was left without the ability to think rationally

What was he even doing? Was it appropriate for him to move this way, and did he do the right thing when pulling away a little just to capture you lower lip a second later, biting down on it gently as he waited for response? He always thought too late, when he had already acted, but there hadn’t been a single time when he hadn’t pleased you with his actions yet. Your soft, tiny moans of pleasure always indicated you were so into the things he was doing to you, and as your arms gently wrapped around his neck, tugging him closer, he knew he couldn’t possibly do wrong.

Every single time it was like this - he patiently waited for encouragement, and when he’d finally gotten it, there was no way to stop him. He was back to his confident self - showing you exactly what he was capable of. And trying to prevent his knees from giving out, because you tasted so, so sweet. And he liked things that tasted sweet over anything else.

“Am I forgiven?” he playfully asked, slowing down his pace a little and chuckling as you weren’t ready to let go of him just yet, continuing to plant soft pecks on his lips, making tiny smooching noises fade away in the air as soon as they came in contact with it.

“Don’t rush things, I didn’t say that,” you reminded him, smiling as he smiled back with disbelief all over his face. What a lie, right? He knew it just as good as you did, but he was not only a great lover, but also a great friend, so he played along nicely.

“Well, you’re talking to me again. Isn’t the end of silent treatment an indicator that I’m forgiven?”

“No,” you said, kissing him again just after.

“And so your kisses are just another way to push me away and ignore me now, right?” he was barely able to speak, as his lips were busy doing other things, but he didn’t mind at all. Speaking was overrated at these moments anyways.

“Of course. It’s my way to shut you up, because I’m already tired of the non-stop babbling.”

“Make me stay quiet for a while then, in that case,” he said, causing you to chuckle, “Or I’ll just continue on like previously. As I said, I’ll just clinge onto you forever, and we’ll both suffer from-”

You really weren’t having any more talking, but were oh so up for a rather passionate make out session. He seemed to think the same way, so for a solid moment no complains could be heard. Just tiny inhales and noises of pleasure escaping both of you at the things you did to each other.

“How about now?”

You rolled your eyes, considering. It was about time to fully give in, right?

“Okay, you’re forgiven,” you said, and suddenly felt yourself being lifted off of the ground.

“Daehyun-ah!!” you cried out in happiness as he pulled you along to the middle of the hallway, and started spinning you around, making your laughs fill up the whole house and his heart and soul as well, just as always.

“I hate you for being cute,” you mumbled as he put you down, causing him to let out a laugh.

“You love me, silly-”

“No, I don’t! I hate you completely because I can’t even stay mad at you for a while. You’re playing around with my mind and emotions a little too willingly.”

“But hey, it’s for the better,” he gave you another loving look, and smiled sheepishly.

“I just wanted to say sorry since I did wrong, and looks like it worked. On top of that, in a pleasant way and manner for both of us. So you’re saying you still truly hate me from the depths of your heart after all of this?”

The happy-ever-after came back to your mind suddenly, and you looked up at him, smiling a little. A warm, fuzzy feeling had taken over your stomach, and you suddenly considered getting mad at him again, just to be held by his arms tightly. Just to be promised a “forever and always” again.

“I won’t if you promise me one simple thing.”

“Which would be?”

“The part about “staying by my side forever”, just in a less annoying fashion, please,” you’d decided to spill it, feeling the atmosphere to be just cheesy enough for it.

The widest of smiles was displayed on his face as he considered. Forever really did sound pleasant. Cuddles in the kitchen and lazy afternoon kisses when he should be busy with other things. He could call you his girlfriend only for a certain amount of time though, as eventually you’d become his fiancee at some point, and in case you’d really want to sign up for his endless screaming and laughing forever, you’d become his wife. And as he considered everything that could possibly follow - him loosing his mind before the birth of your children, him taking them along to kindergarten for the first time. Him realizing he was getting older, but so were you, and as time moved forward but your jokes and the love you shared didn’t change in the least, he was alright with seeming a little too old-fashioned and too in the past for younger people to understand. He’d have you on his side always, and wasn’t that enough?

Just the thought of remembering it all afterwards with you seemed pleasant, and he didn’t hesitate to say his verdict. Not that you didn’t know it already.

“I thought that was self-explanatory, wasn’t it? Don’t think it’s ever going to be otherwise. It’s me and you, from now on and until forever. And you’ll be sorry to yourself one day for signing up to my annoying presence for a lifetime, but hey. Just give me a dose of silent treatment, and we’ll figure it out.”

[carey-pricemas]

Cookies- Tyler Seguin ft. Ben Bishop

Ok so Yoshi and I were talking and she came up with this great premise for a story and then the other day we saw Tyler's video where he was giggling while Mitchell Stephens was turning out the light and we just got talking about Tyler giggling and well this is where it led. Hope you like it babe! Enjoy!

Warning: none

@thewanderingdreamer​ Request: One where Ben introduces you to Tyler and warns him about hurting you

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              You stood there, bouncing on the balls of your feet, wearing the jersey you knew would annoy your best friend.

              "Those are going to be crumbs if you keep it up" Ben said from behind you. You squealed and whirled to face him, forgetting the fact that the cookies in your hands were in fact breakable. You threw your arms around him as he held you close, laughing in your ear.

              You had met Ben his rookie season in Tampa when you literally bowled him over in the coffee shop. You were in a rush so you threw your phone number at him, telling him you'd pay for his shirt, but you couldn't stop.

              It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

              At the beginning you had a crush on the tall goalie, but it waned and you two stayed close. He got you free season tickets to see your favorite team and you baked him cookies. When Ben met Andrea, you helped him pick out what to wear and where to take her. When he finally introduced the two of you, he still says he regrets it. You helped him pick out the engagement ring and you were going to be the best man in their upcoming wedding.

              But then the trade happened.

              You hadn't been able to see him since he was traded to first LA, then Dallas.

              It was his first time back in Tampa.

              "Missed you" you whispered, squeezing him.

              "We missed you too" he said, stepping back. He reached for the container off cookies, opening it and sniffing the chocolatey goodness before pulling one out and popping it in his mouth. Before he could get the container closed, a tattooed hand shot out and snagged one, causing a groan to fall from Ben's mouth (around the cookie of course). "Get your own baker, Segs."

              "Yours is closer" he responded. You watched awestruck as Tyler Seguin closed his eyes as he tasted the cookie. "Oh my god. No wonder you were so excited to come back to Tampa."

              "Yup! It's all about the cookies" you said, laughing. Tyler grinned at you. "I'm (Y/N), since Ben is too rude to introduce us." Tyler laughed and wiped his hand of cookie crumbs on his dress pants.

              "Tyler. Nice jersey, but I think you're rooting for the wrong team." Ben scoffed and eyed the number.

              "She couldn't even wear a decent number" he muttered. You rolled your eyes at the same argument they had every time.

              Even though you were best friends with Ben, you refused to wear his jersey because Victor Hedman had your whole heart, even though he was happily married. The jersey both supported one of your favorite players and annoyed Ben.

              It was a win win for you.

              "I don't look good in green" you responded. Ben and Tyler both rolled their eyes as you laughed. "Ok I should let you guys get ready. I'm going to go find my seat." You stepped forward and hugged Ben tightly. "Play good, but don't win!"

              "Rude" Ben said, rolling his eyes. "Meet you back here after the game?"

              "Definitely!" Ben walked away with a wave. You could feel Tyler's gaze still on you, so you turned your smile to him. "I think you have a game to get ready for."

              "Yeah" he said agreeing, but didn't move. You raised an eyebrow at him, a grin slowly tugging across your face. "I mean yeah I need to go."

              "You should do that" you said giggling. Tyler smiled at you, but still didn't move.

              "Dinner?"

              "What?" you asked, eyes going wide.

              "Can I take you to dinner after the game?" You blinked at him for a moment, unsure you had heard him right.

              "I'm going to dinner with Ben" you said. Tyler's shoulders drooped and you smiled at him. "But you can join us if you'd like."

              "I'd like to. Very much so." You grinned and nodded once.

              "Then I guess I'll see you after you lose."

              "We'll win. Just for you" Tyler said with a wink. You laughed as he jogged off.

              What a crazy bizarre world.

~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/

              "-Not telling you what to do, Seggy." You paused out of sight of the table. You had gone to use the bathroom and apparently the two men had decided to have a little chat while you were gone. "If you hurt her or screw around on her, I will be the least of your problems. I've seen that girl put a world of hurt on grown men to the point where they cried. Plus, she knows where the gators are around here."

              "I don't plan on being stupid, Bish." You smiled to yourself and decided to make your presence known.

              "So... order dessert yet?"

~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/

Six months later

              "God I miss you" you said to the picture on your phone.

              "You know how you could miss me less?" Tyler asked.

              "You get traded to Tampa Bay?" you asked jokingly. Tyler giggled and you knew your phone call was about to end. Tyler only giggled when he was playing with his dogs or when he was super tired. Considering they had a hard game last night, you would guess the latter.

              "You're cute."

              "That's why you love me" you chirped. Tyler's face got softer.

              "I do. Anyway... move to Dallas." You were silent for a minute as you processed his words. Not only had he told you he loved you, but he wanted you to move in with him? "(Y/N)? You there?"

              "Yeah" you said. "I'm here!" You bit your lip as a smile overtook your face. "I'll look into it."

              "Yeah?"

              "Yeah. I'll need to find a job and a place to stay and-"

              "Stay with us" Tyler interrupted. Gerry whined from where he was lying next to Tyler. "The boys will love it. I'd love it." Your heart melted.

              “You just want cookies all the time.”

              “Maybe” he teased. “But how could you resist these faces?” Tyler moved the phone to show you the dogs’ faces.

              "Ok" you said softly. Tyler grinned and let out a big yawn. "Bed time."

              "Yup" Tyler said, giggling once more. "Love you (Y/N)."

              "Love you too, Tyler." You disconnected the call and set your phone down.

              You didn't know how you got so lucky, but you loved where it led.

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Ok so I hope that's what you wanted boo! Anyway let me know what you guys thought! Up next: Uhhhh.... Jacob Trouba maybe? Idk tbh...

[winetae]

⇾ all that is gold (m)

⇁ female reader x taehyung

⇁ smut, angst || roommate!au + sugar baby!au

⇁ sub!taehyung, skype sex, masturbation, orgasm denial, possessiveness, slight breath play, oral sex, dirty talk, thigh riding, tae ends up sort of a switch? idk

⇁  11.2k

. . .

As a college student struggling to make ends meet, Taehyung resorts to a less than ethical method to satisfy his appetite for expensive treats. The last thing he wants is for you to find out how he acquires the Gucci in his closet… however this proves to be difficult when you are his roommate.

↳ or : Taehyung is a sugar baby and somehow thinks he can keep this a secret

a/n; ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

.

“Tae, a package arrived for you earlier this morning,” he hears you say, a piece of toast dangling between your teeth.

At your words, he almost chokes on his coffee, the hot liquid scalding his tongue.

Taehyung watches you scramble for your textbooks, muttering a number of colorful curses under your breath, and breathes a sigh of relief. He’s constantly worried that you’ll start asking what his frequent packages contain, or worse… that you’ll start to question who sends them to him.

“Maybe it’s time to invest in an alarm clock,” he advises, hiding his amused smile behind his mug of coffee.

“Fuck you,” you glare. He’s known you long enough to know your irritation isn’t faked, but it’s hard for him to take you seriously when you have crumbs sprinkled over the corner of your lips. “You know I’ve tried everything.”

“You have.” The thin walls separating your rooms make it impossible for him to ignore the ten different alarms you’ve set up every two minutes to help you wake up. Maybe a lesser roommate would have thrown a fit, but Taehyung isn’t really one to whine. There are worse songs to wake up to, and besides he enjoys eating breakfast with you. Over the past year the both of you had slipped into a comfortable routine: he would make the coffee and you would prepare the food. You’re not the greatest chef, but Taehyung never complains, especially when he himself can’t be trusted with the stove.

“Hey, come here,” he motions you over with a wave.

“What is it now?” you huff, slipping on your shoes. He wonders if he should point out your socks don’t match. “I’m late, Tae.”

“Just a sec.” He watches you reluctantly walk over, heavy bag weighing down one of your shoulders. Your face is slightly pink and freshly scrubbed clean, hair still damp. He likes you best like this—fresh, all softness and no edges.

He smiles and leans in close enough to smell the scent of your jasmine soap. Taehyung knows you’re in a hurry but he can’t resist taking his time, fingers slowly brushing away the leftover traces of your toast. The pads of his fingertips linger against your soft lips for a second too long, and he has to force himself to swallow down his feelings. Only the sheer force of will makes him pull back, his hand falling uselessly to his side. It’s not even been a minute and he already misses the proximity.

Taehyung hopes nothing in his face gives it away.

“There. Wouldn’t want you to go to class with food all over your face.”

You huff, rubbing the bottom of your face with your sleeve.

“Whatever.” With another glance to your watch, you wince. “Ah, fuck, I’m really late. I’ll see you later tonight, okay? Like we planned?”

“Mmhm,” he nods, watching you scamper away, not bothering to hide his amusement. “Sure thing, doll. I’ll see you tonight.”

As soon as the door closes behind you, Taehyung springs up, ready to retrieve his package. Usually he makes sure to wake up earlier than you, not wanting you to intercept it and start asking unwanted questions. He doesn’t like lying, but he doesn’t want you to find out the truth either. More than anything, he’s scared of how you will react.

When the brown box finally makes its way into his hands, the first thing he notices is that it’s smaller than the previous one he received three days ago. He weighs the parcel in his hands, impatient and eager to find out what she’s sent him this time. The size of his gifts never matter to him because he knows each of them are probably more than he deserves.

As much as he likes be dotted on, the ridiculous sums of money he’s been showered in still make him slightly uncomfortable. Even so, he can’t help himself from eyeing the contents of the box, his curiosity outweighing the guilt that slowly eats away his insides. He has an unreasonable appetite for pretty, expensive treats. His desires make him forget about the side effects, even though he knows his obsession with acquiring the unobtainable is unhealthy. With every new costly addition to his growing collection of leathers and furs, he lets himself be seduced by the opulence and delicacies only money can obtain.

Hidden beneath the white tissue paper, a delicate velvet choker lined with platinum and diamonds sits in its center. Taehyung gulps audibly, wondering how much a thing must cost.

Just then, as if sensing his awe, he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. Without looking, he picks up the call, already knowing who it might be.

“Do you like it?” her honeyed voice greets him. Although this is far from the first time she’s called him, his heart rate still picks up and his mouth goes dry.

She hasn’t called in a while, long enough for him to start wondering if she had finally gotten bored of him, if someone more interesting had managed to capture her attention.

“Of course I do,” he answers, index finger smoothing over the thin strip of fabric.

He has never owned a choker before, not even the ones made out of cheap polyester easily purchasable online. And this—this he would probably never be able to afford, not even if he emptied out his measly savings and saved up for months.

Not only does it look like something out of a fashion catalog, it feels expensive.

Still, despite it being months since this arrangement has taken place, he could never get used to the incredible amounts of money spent on him.

What had started out as relatively small gifts—an assortment of crisp bow ties and a Gucci wallet—had soon become piles of leather jackets and silk chemises.

Now when Taehyung opens his closet, it’s bursting with an eclectic mixture of designer button downs and worn-in sweaters, the bold prints clashing with the rest of his faded clothes.

“I thought you would like it… When I saw it, I knew it would look pretty on you. It’s vintage.” He imagines her meticulously picking out the choker just for him and bites back his smile, even though he’s alone in his room and no one is there to witness how much the thought pleases him. “Can you try it on for me?”

“Mhmm,” he immediately agrees, trying to unclasp the choker with one hand while still keeping the phone pressed to his ear. After a minute of struggling he manages to slip the material around his neck. He moves in front of his floor-length mirror to appraise himself and—oh.

“How does it look?”

“It’s…” He swallows thickly, feels the black velvet wrap around his neck snugly. “Tight.”

She hums, seemingly distracted. “Is that so?”

“It’s nice,” he hurriedly adds on, not wanting to seem ungrateful. He wishes he was more verbose and could tell her how much he likes it, how much he appreciates it. But he has nothing to offer her other than his sincerity. “It’s pretty.”

The word pretty doesn’t do it justice. The shade of midnight stands out against his golden skin, the diamonds sparkling like tiny stars. It makes his neck look longer, more delicate. Even though the fit is snug, the material doesn’t irritate his skin. He feels like a different person, more luxurious and sophisticated, like the version of himself he wishes he could be.

“I want you to show me how pretty it looks,” she instructs. Her voice is never harsh or demanding, but there’s something about it that makes his spine stand straight. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, yes,” he hurriedly complies, not wanting to displease her. “Ah… Do you want me to take a picture?”

“I think…” He can hear the ruffling of papers on the other end of the phone. “I think I have enough time right now to video chat.”

His eyes widen. It’s been a while since they last saw each other, and even longer since they used skype to communicate… On a normal day, she enjoys teasing him endlessly, sometimes pushing him to the point of tears. Overall, Taehyung enjoys their sessions, likes the way the sex is so drastically different from everything he’s ever experienced.

“Alright. Hold on, let me get my laptop.” It takes a moment before he can sit back comfortably on his bed, laptop perched on his lap. He waits for her okay so he can disconnect the call.

As he waits for her to call him back on skype, he starts to feel self-conscious. He looks down at his outfit and regrets not changing. The shirt he has on is an old thing he likes to sleep in—a plain white tee with a coffee stain near the collar that he has never figured out how to get rid of. His eye bags are prominent from lack of sleep and no screen filter could probably mask those shadows completely. He’ll never admit it, but Taehyung usually spends hours picking out the right clothes when he has to visit her. Today he doesn’t have that kind of time to spare. He doesn’t want to keep her waiting, especially if she’s calling him during her work hours, but he’s afraid his appearance will disappoint her.

It’s not the first time he contemplates why such a sophisticated and dignified woman would spend her time and money on a broke college student who doesn’t even have the rest of his life figured out. At first it had been insanely flattering, but as time passed and the amount of gifts kept increasing, it was impossible not to start feeling just a little bit inadequate and undeserving. With her endless supply of money and those sharp, exotic features, Taehyung is positive she could easily find someone more suited to her level.

His musings are interrupted by the skype ringtone that echoes loudly in the closed space of his room. Her face lights up his screen and he drinks in her features greedily. As usual, she is well put together; not a hair is out of place—the silky strands held back in a tight ponytail.

“Oh, that does look nice,” she says in lieu of greeting, her dark eyes fixed on her newest present. “I knew it would.”

Her eyelashes are doubled with black mascara, the sharp black lines accentuating the intensity of her stare.

“Thank you,” he looks down, not able to meet her strong gaze. “I mean, thanks for the gift. You didn’t have to.”

“I know,” she smiles, resting her chin in her hands. “I wanted to see you wear it. You suit Cartier.”

He’s not sure if he does. The miniature diamonds look out of place on him, especially with the shirt he has on. But he wants to believe her words, wants to believe that such an extravagant piece belongs on his neck.

“It’s a bit much.” He fidgets, stretching his hand to tug on the material around his neck. “We haven’t done anything lately…”

It’s what bothers him the most. There’s supposed to be an exchange of some kind, but Taehyung is the only one receiving.

“Stop thinking that way,” she admonishes, rolling her eyes playfully. “I wanted to treat you… I know you’ve been working hard.”

“Yeah…” He chews the inside of his cheek, trying to cast aside the guilty feelings that bubble in his stomach. He knows he’s not obliged to give her services for every present she decides to spoil him with, but Taehyung lives by the principle of give and take. And with every gift somehow more luxurious than the last, the balance between the both of them keeps tipping.

“Why don’t you show me how thankful you are?” she suggests, leaning back in her chair. “We have some time before my next appointment.”

Appointment?

He’s spent countless hours memorizing the curves and dips of her body that he could name the constellations of beauty marks scattered down her back. Yet, despite knowing her body intimately, Taehyung is always reminded in times like these that he doesn’t know her at all. It’s not the first time he asks himself what kind of occupation she has, what kind of life she lives.

He suddenly takes notice of her surroundings—the white walls, the minimalist decor, the glass panels and high ceilings. It looks like a high-end office in the uptown district, the kind of work place you only see in dramas. His inquisitive nature wants to ask her if she’s calling him during her work hours, but he ends up keeping the question to himself. Even if there are certain boundaries that separate the two of them—unspoken rules, limits that he has imposed upon himself—Taehyung is scared one of these days he’ll toe over those lines. Because even if he is curious, he’s constantly reminded that he doesn’t belong in the world she lives in.

“What do you need me to do?”

His mind races with images of their previous encounters over skype. With her, he’s never sure what she’ll ask him to do… He could be asked to put on a show for her. Her requests are never predictable.

“Hmm,” she tilts her head and leans forward slightly, her cleavage peaking through the opening of her blouse. Taehyung suspects every action of hers is calculated and deliberate, with the sole purpose of rendering him weak. “It’s been a while since we’ve played together… I’ve missed you.”

Taehyung bites his lower lip nervously, wondering what kind of game she wants to play this time.

“I’ve missed you, too.” Taehyung knows those are the words she wants to hear. He thinks they might be true, to some degree. There’s certainly a physical attraction between them. But what they have… He knows it isn’t a real relationship, not in the traditional sense anyway.

“Can you get yourself hard for me? I want to see you.”

Taehyung wipes his clammy palms on his sweatpants. He’s not sure he can get in the right mood. It’s easier to let loose and give in to his base desires when he meets her in fancy hotel suites or in her upscale penthouse. In the confines of his room, sitting across a screen, it’s hard to shift into the persona she wants from him. But he needs to try.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll guide you through it. Just follow what I say,” she soothes, her sugary voice encouraging him to relax.

He tries his best to relax and do what she wants.

“It would be better if I could see you in person… We always have so much fun. Last time we played together, you came so hard,” she grins, eyelashes fluttering close. “I still have the stain on my skirt.”

“Y- you didn’t throw it out?”

“Sometimes I’ll wear it to work,” she flashes him a smirk that makes his stomach tighten. “I think of all the ways you begged for me.”

Taehyung isn’t sure if she’s messing around with him. It’s hard to tell with her. She likes to rile him up, mostly because it works every time. Even now, he’s bombarded with images of her walking around an office in her tight black pencil skirt; the faint traces of his orgasm visible to anyone who dared looked closely enough. The fact that someone like her would willingly parade herself stained in his desire makes his skin heat up. He palms himself through the thick material of his sweatpants, closing his eyes, trying to recall the events that occurred the night she let him soil her skirt. Taehyung tries to picture her clothed body an arm’s reach away, teasing him.

“That’s it, just relax,” she coaxes. “I know it’s better when I’m there, but you just have to pretend for now… Hmm, want to know what I would do to you if I was there with you?”

Taehyung nods eagerly in response, adjusting the laptop so she can have a better view of what he is doing. His camera isn’t the best quality but he hopes she can still enjoy the show he’ll put on.

“I would probably tease you over your pants… But my mouth would feel much better than your hand, wouldn’t it? It’s too bad I can’t be there to hear those pretty sounds in person. I love the noises you make just for me.”

The empty promise tempts him, and he barely holds in his groan. He can count the number of times her lips have touched his cock on one hand, despite their countless sessions together. The thought of having something more than just the usual teasing touches makes his member begin to stiffen in his grasp. He quickly pulls down the waistband of his sweats and boxers; he doesn’t even bother to take them completely off—just leaves them bunched up on his thighs.

Taehyung tries to think of ways to make it look sexier but his movements are awkward, his calloused skin rubbing painfully against his shaft. He spits into his palm and uses the wetness to stroke himself off, acutely aware of her intense scrutiny. The feeling isn’t as good as a mouth, but the glide across his hard shaft is smoother than before.

Soon his mind begins to wander… He tries to picture her sitting between his legs, slender fingers replacing his own. With every stroke, he imagines her leaning closer, hot breath tickling his red tip, teasing him further. She would want to hear him, would want to know how much she affects him. With this in mind, Taehyung whimpers loudly for effect, watching his screen between half-closed lids.

He might be mistaken but her breathing sounds a little uneven. “You’re not going to come already, are you?”

He shakes his head. It feels good but Taehyung is greedy and needs more before he can reach his end.

“If I gave you permission, what would you do to me? How would you please me?”

He worries his bottom lip at the unexpected question. What would he do if she was here by his side? He tries to envision her on his bed, hair splayed out on the cushion beneath her. Would she find his mattress too hard? His bed too small? Taehyung doesn’t know what he would do, if he’s being honest. When it comes to her, he’s lost without instructions. He doesn’t dare do anything without being prompted—too concerned she wouldn’t enjoy it.

Things would be different with you, he thinks. Just thinking about you tangled in his sheets, thin tank top riding up to expose your skin, has him gripping his member more firmly.

“I’d kiss your neck,” he manages to say. “Slowly. Gently.”

No biting, just soft kisses into the crook of your neck. He wants to take his time with you, wants to hear your breathing deepen and body squirm in unspoken desire. When he would finally kiss his way back up to your lips, your cheeks would flush a dusty rose color, his name falling prettily from your lips.

“I want to worship your body, spend all my time kissing and licking it until you can’t take it,” he continues, barely aware of her presence anymore.

It’s easy to imagine himself peeling off your shirt. Your skin would be so, so soft under his tongue, his lips, his fingers. He wants to learn what makes you moan, wants to memorize all the different ways that make you cry his name in need.

“I would take my time… And when I finally get to where you need me the most, I would give it to you hard.”

He imagines you wouldn’t need any foreplay, that you would just beg him to sink into you. He knows you would be able to take it, that your pussy was made for his cock. Of course he would give it to you. He would do anything you asked if it meant pleasing you.

Visions of you arching your back, of his hard member sliding in and out of your sopping core, make him twitch into his hand, tip leaking. He’s closer than ever to the edge, fucking into his hand like he would your hot, drenched pussy.

“Keep your eyes on me… You’re doing this for me, remember?” Her voice breaks his trance, and he struggles to keep his eyes fixed on the screen like she desires.

“Don’t come,” she orders in a firm tone.

But the fantasy he’s conjured in his head is still imprinted in the forefront of his mind.

“C-can’t, oh fuck,” he stutters, his hand moving over his slick shaft in determined strokes. “Fuck, I’m gonna–”

“Taehyung!” The sharp warning snaps him out of it. He looks back at the screen, desperation clear in his eyes, forehead matted with sweat. “If you come now, I’ll make sure you eat it up.”

He shudders and digs his fingernails into his palms, trying to ease off the edge. The sharp pinpricks of pain distract him momentarily. He tries to calm down, does his best to even out his breathing, but he can’t focus properly. He’s not sure if it’s another one of her empty threats, but the last thing he wants is for her to watch him eat his own semen. It feels dirty, somehow, and even more so because there’s a depraved part of him that enjoys the act.

He wants to call her bluff, knowing she doesn’t have the time to carry out her threat. He closes his eyes, thinks of you on your knees in front of him, taking him down your throat. For some reason he thinks you wouldn’t like to delay his orgasm. No, you would probably keep swallowing him down, even after he ejaculated into your mouth. You would lick him clean and keep licking, ignoring his protests, until he was fully hard again. Fuck, he would come as many times as you wanted, if it meant having you. He wants you so fucking much.

The muscles in his thighs and lower stomach tense.  It’s the only warning he gets before he explodes—hot, white fluid landing on his stomach, his thighs, the sheets. Sweat drenches the front of his old shirt and he can see the faint outline of his nipples through the damp fabric. He blinks lazily as the fog of lust clears up, realizing his mistake only too late.

“I’m sor—,” he swallows hard, choker constricting him. “I’m sorry. I tried to hold it off b—”

“I don’t want excuses,” she snaps, losing her composure. “I should have known you wouldn’t be able to follow simple instructions.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats meekly, the tips of his ears burning in humiliation. He can’t believe he wasn’t able to control himself. Under her guidance, he was usually able to hold off for long periods of time.

“I don’t have time to deal with this properly right now. Come around at ten tonight.”

Taehyung nods quickly, not wanting to displease her further.

“Don’t be late,” she hides her warning with a smile. “I don’t want to punish you more than I already have to tonight.”

With a click, the image of her face fades out. Taehyung wipes his cum-covered hand on his already soiled boxers, fingers trembling.

.

.

It’s become routine.

In the mornings, he will wake up to a discreet package containing gorgeous, high-priced items of clothing. During the night, he’ll take a cab ride over to the uptown district and meet her in her fancy penthouse. Depending on her mood, he’ll either spend hours tied up to her bed, surrounded by feathered pillows and Egyptian cotton sheets, or on his knees, head buried between her thighs. There is never a time when he cums more times than her. Some days, he’s not allowed relief at all—especially if he’s displeased her.

He was worried today would be one of those days, but the sight of him wearing the Cartier choker must have excited her.

In the cab ride back home, Taehyung finds himself dozing off several times. His limbs feel heavy, and all he wants to do is let sleep claim him. He remembers she had offered to let him stay the night but he refused to cross that line, no matter how tired he got after their sessions. Siyeon isn’t one to beg, and she never presses the issue with words, but sometimes Taehyung wonders if she tries to fuck him to sleep. Like tonight for example…

His hand reaches for the choker around his neck, remembering the jeweled present she had been fixated on almost the entire night. He knows she likes when he wears the clothes she sends him, he can tell by the way her eyes gleam with possessiveness. Taehyung isn’t sure how he feels about that… What does she see exactly when she looks at him? Although the sex is more than satisfying, there are moments when it feels somewhat impersonal. Like she could be fucking anyone else and it wouldn’t make a difference.

Maybe he’s overthinking again. He thinks he should stop worrying so much. What they have is just sex. Good sex. Siyeon is rich and pretty, and in many aspects the ideal woman of many. There’s really no reason to complain. He’s accepted to put a price on his body in the form of opulent gifts. He’s accepted his choices but he’s not proud of himself. 

He can’t wait to take a shower and erase the traces of their encounter. He hates to be reminded of his questionable decisions. His desire to clean himself off and go to sleep helps him trudge up the three flights of stairs.

He freezes in the doorway when he sees you curled up on the couch. Automatically, his hand trails up to his neck, making sure the velvet choker has been taken off and put away.

The sound of the door opening must have jostled you awake; you rub your eyes, blinking up at him sleepily.

“You shouldn’t sleep on the couch,” he frowns.

“Tae… Where have you been? I tried calling you but your phone was off.”

“What’s wrong? Is something the matter?” he instantly worries, cursing himself for not checking his messages earlier. He walks over and crouches down so he can level his gaze with yours. His reaches out automatically to push a strand of hair away from your face. 

“Tae,” you wince, nose crinkling, moving your head away from his touch. Up close, he notices your makeup has smudged around your eyes. Usually he would tease you for looking like a raccoon but he has the presence of mind to know now isn’t the time to make fun of you. “You don’t remember, do you?”

“What?”

You run your fingers through your hair, looking away.

“It’s fine,” you utter, even though he can tell you don’t mean it. “We were supposed to have a movie night, but you must have been busy…”

“Oh shit.” He suddenly remembers that today is Friday, the day of the week reserved for lazy nights and movie marathons. “I’m so sorry… I forgot it was tonight.”

“Yeah, I realized,” you mutter, disappointment dripping from each syllable. “I’m okay with you changing your plans, but it would have been nice if you told me beforehand…”

“Hey,” he reaches out for your hand but you twist away from his grasp. That stings, probably more than it should. “I’m really sorry. I know I fucked up… I’ve been looking forward to spending time with you again.”

“Tae… What am I to you?”

The sudden question catches him off-guard, causing him to shake his head in confusion.

You let out a small laugh, eyes not meeting his. “Forget it.”

“No, tell me,” he insists.

You take your time before you respond. “All this time… I kept thinking you might like me back?” you confess nervously. “I don’t know why I thought that way.”

It’s hard to hear you over the hammering of his heart. Did he hear you correctly? Taehyung finds himself doubting the reality of the situation. How many times has he imagined this scenario? How many times has he daydreamed about you shyly confessing your feelings?

He says your name gently, ready to tell you how he feels. He wants to assure you that you’re right; he does like you, has liked you for the longest time. He wants to finally move on from that awkward place the both of you are stuck in—more than friends, but not quite lovers.

“Don’t, Tae,” you warn, cutting him off before he can continue. “Don’t tell me you like me back if you don’t mean it.”

“I do like you,” he insists, frowning. “I like you more than you think…”

He never imagined this scene would play out like this.

“Yeah?” you snort incredulously. “How can you expect me to believe you when you reek of sex?”

You eye the lavender bruises and crimson lip prints that paint his neck like a collar with ill-hidden contempt. It’s too late to cover them up now that you’ve seen them, but Taehyung still clutches his neck hoping to undo the damage.

He wants to tell you it’s just sex between Siyeon and him, nothing more. But he doesn’t want to let you believe she’s a random girl he hooks up with from time to time, because she’s not. It’s worse than that.

��__ …” He distances himself from you, suddenly ashamed. 

He can’t tell you the truth. You’re already disappointed enough with him and he doesn’t want to add on to that. Once again he’s reminded as to why he doesn’t deserve you. Even though he wants to be with you, he knows he’s not enough. He just hopes when tomorrow will come around that you’ll forgive him. 

.

.

Things don’t go back to normal. Somehow, you miraculously manage to wake up on time every morning, sneaking out of the shared apartment before he even has time to get up and make coffee. After several days, Taehyung notices that you’ve started to avoid the apartment. On the rare occasions he does catch you at home, you don’t spare him more than a polite greeting.

Taehyung doesn’t make any effort to close the growing rift that separates the both of you. How can he, when he knows you’re better off staying away from him? He can’t even dare to look you in the eye. The conversation he shared with you replays constantly in his mind and the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes how right you are. How can you accept his feelings when he’s sleeping with another woman? He’s a fool for thinking that he could somehow continue to have both women in his life. Siyeon satisfies every material desire he has, which should be more than enough, except Taehyung craves your love and affection, too.

His secret weighs down on him more than ever. It’s all he can think about during lectures and his morning jog around campus. He can’t concentrate on his work when his mind is clouded with thoughts of you. When he passes by your room, sometimes he lingers in front of your door, trying to work up the courage to talk to you again.

He knows he can’t face you when he’s still accepting Siyeon’s gifts.

If he was a better person, he would have ended things with her a long time ago. If has an ideal man, he would have never agreed to this in the first place.

It’s the third Sunday morning without you when he finally reaches a decision. Taehyung stares at your vacant seat while sipping his coffee, the smell of burnt toast still lingering in the air. He misses your soggy scrambled eggs, the way the two of you would curl up on the small couch together and watch cartoons. He misses the sound of your laughter when he cracks a joke and the way you call him Tae and not Taehyung.

Even though dressing up in exquisite fabrics bring him great joy, Taehyung won’t let himself cast away his chance to be with you. He knows he can’t let himself mess this up.

That’s how he finds himself in Siyeon’s penthouse on a Sunday night.

It’s the first time he’s initiated any contact with her. It’s also the first time he hasn’t put any effort into his appearance. He feels a bit silly standing in the middle of her luxurious penthouse in his hockey jersey and track shoes, especially when she’s always refined and elegant.

“I think we should end this.” He doesn’t want to draw it out, too afraid he’ll end up losing his nerve.

The silence that follows his words is deafening. All his muscles are tense with the effort of not squirming under her scrutiny.

“Are you… saying you want to walk away from this? From all of it?”

“Yes,” he swallows, doing his best not to avert his eyes from her intimidating gaze. He needs her to know he’s serious about his decision.

“If that’s what you want.”She tries to sound detached but he knows better. Even if she remains for the most part a mystery to him, Taehyung can tell he’s hurt her pride.

“I got these for you yesterday when I was out,” she shows him the shopping bags by the door. “I was going to send them later, but you can take them now and consider them parting gifts.”

He doesn’t move. He feels his jaw flex despite his efforts to stay disinterested. Why was she always tempting him? It was just like her to throw out one last bone to see if he would bite.

“Try on the clothes, Taehyung.”

“I can’t possibly—”

“After everything I’ve done for you… surely, you’ll let me have this?” She arches an eyebrow at him expectantly.

He bites the inside of his cheek and considers her last request.

“Just be good one last time and try them on. I picked this out just for you, after all. They’re yours… regardless of your decisions. It would be such a shame to let them go to waste.”

Her words mock him, entice him. There’s no use pretending that he doesn’t want to try on the garments she has carefully picked out just for him. She has the tact not to leave the price tags on, but one glance at them and he can tell they’re all in the thousands. He wants to know how the soft fabric will slide over his skin, how much better he’ll look in clothes that are worth more than anything else he owns.

He pulls off his jersey, itching to try on the brand new clothes. He knows he shouldn’t but the rational part of him fizzles out as soon as his hand comes into contact with the soft cashmere. Every time he’s amazed at how she always gets his measurements right.

“Don’t forget the scarf.”

He hesitates. There is no doubt that the blend of blues and reds is beautiful. But whether it’s a Gucci scarf or a Cartier choker, Taehyung is unsure if wearing something around his neck is the right thing to do in this situation.

As he ties the square of spun silk around the column of his neck, he imagines her eyes darken with something akin to possessiveness like they have done all the times before.

She steps closer and reaches for the printed silk, retying the knot so that the fabric clings tightly around his throat. When he swallows, the silky material digs into his skin and restricts his breathing.

“There,” she pats his cheek in a show of mock affection. He can’t help but feel a bit like a dog—collared, groomed, trained.

His nostrils flare in protest, but he bites his tongue. He stares straight ahead, not daring to look down as her delicate hand trails down the Gucci sweater. He’s hyper-aware of her presence, from the warm breath that hits the sensitive skin of his neck to the smell of her overbearing Chanel perfume.

“Who is she?” she questions, voice low and husky.

“W-What?” He fails to keep his voice steady.

“The girl you’re leaving me for, who is she?” He averts his eyes when she pursues, unrelenting.

She grips his cock through his jeans, making him jump in surprise. He’s ashamed to find out he’s already half hard. He doesn’t know why his body is betraying him now of all times. Maybe he’s been conditioned to expect sex whenever he sees her. Maybe he’s just fucked up.

“Is she pretty?”

He refuses to answer. He doesn’t want to get dragged into another one of her games. And he has no intention of bringing you into the mix.

“Have you fucked her?” she continues, fingers pressing down on his zipper.

He finally looks up, hackles raised. He knows she only wants a reaction from him, but he can’t help but take the bait.

“Don’t talk about her,” he hisses between his teeth.

It feels inherently wrong. The two women in his life are not supposed to mix. You belong in two different worlds, worlds that are separated by the number in your bank accounts, by the tags on your clothes. She belongs to the unobtainable—a sparkling fantasy world that he can visit in exchange for his body. And even though that attracts him, Taehyung has finally realized what he really wants. 

“Or what?” she laughs airily, eyes glinting in the dimly lit room.

Any response he could have had is cut short once she reaches down the front of his pants to grip his already semi-erect shaft.

He bites down hard on his bottom lip, watching her hand squeeze his hardening length once, twice. It takes everything in him to stop himself from thrusting his hips into her warm palm, seeking more friction. He can already feel pearls of sweat drip down the side of his face, can taste the iron on his tongue as he falls deeper into a haze of lust. With every upward stroke he’s this much closer to giving in and he hates it. He hates how powerless he is against her, hates how weak his body is.

“Do you think she’ll fuck you as good as me?”

The mention of you snaps him out of it temporarily. Is he really letting himself be coerced with a dick rub and a handful of designer clothes? Is he really that weak?

He lets her back him up towards the leather couch, still unsure about this predicament. With a hard push, he’s forced to sit down. Her face is a deceptive mask of calmness but he readies himself for the storm that’s about to hit.

Taehyung doesn’t expect her to fall to her knees in front of him, unzipping his jeans slowly. He stares at her in disbelief, wondering how far she will go. Is she trying to prove a point? 

“She can’t give you what I give you,” she murmurs, grip tightening around his member. “She can’t make you cum like I do.”

“Sh-shut up,” he gasps as her hand encloses over his leaking tip. “Shut up. Please stop talking.”

“What was that?” She pulls back, coy smile painted on. “Say that again.”

He expects her to reprimand him with more torturous teasing, not shift forward to take his hard length into her mouth. Taehyung watches, helpless to the onslaught of pleasure as her hot mouth dips down slowly. The wet warmth wraps around his cock perfectly, her tongue stimulating every nerve ending. He should be putting up more of a fight, but his attempts at resistance quickly crumble away with every sweep of her wicked tongue. 

She’s never blown him quite like this. Usually she’ll take her time and only give him what he needs after copious amounts of begging. Even then, her touch will stay feather-light and teasing, not nearly enough pressure and friction for him to be fully sated. But this—this is meant to destroy him in one blow. 

“Shut up, sh-shut, uhhn,” he grunts, hips thrusting involuntarily. He barely registers that she lets him push into her throat, drunk on the need to release. He feels the need build in the pit of his stomach but she puts a halt to his orgasm when she releases his cock with a lewd smack of her lips.

Her hand fists over his cock in slow, deliberate strokes, mouth sucking the tip with just enough suction for it to feel fucking good.

“You don’t tell me what to do.” She emphasizes each word with a scratch down his legs, her manicured nails leaving behind raised pink lines he knows will stay there for days. The bite of pain helps him calm down, but the illusion of peace is shattered when she stands up.  

Her skirt is the first item of clothing she discards. Without the barrier of the wine-colored material, the heady scent of her arousal hits him full force. He casts a fleeting look between her legs. The dim overhead lights don’t allow him to see much, but he imagines there’s a wet patch on the lace material of her panties.

It’s not every day she decides to take off her clothes, so he can’t help but gawk a little as she starts to discard her pearls and silks. It’s not that she’s insecure about her body… Taehyung knows she’s proud of it, knows she’s confident that her looks can make men weak in the knees. She gets off on power, likes knowing he wants to see her, to feel her. She likes knowing men crave her. He wonders if the reason she’s acting so out of character is because she wants him to need her again.

Once she is completely bare, Taehyung can’t help but sit still and admire her. Her smooth, unmarred skin seems to glow in the dimly lit room, and he swears he has never seen someone so physically attractive in his life.

She forces him to scoot backwards into the couch, straddling his thighs. Proof of her arousal glistens on her thighs, and Taehyung has to fight down the sudden urge to touch her because he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to, doesn’t know if he should. 

He makes a move to take off the clothes she has gifted him but she stops him by grabbing his wrists and shaking her head. She wants him to stay fully clothed? He squirms beneath her hold at the thought. 

It’s so hot beneath the collar of his knitwear, he can feel his back start to dampen with sweat. He wonders why she prefers to stay clothed during sex… He had always assumed staying clothed gave her power over him, but all he feels is sticky and uncomfortable.

He’s not sure if it’s because of the novelty of the situation, but he makes no move to push her away. In fact, all his muscles tense in anticipation as she lowers herself on his cock that’s shiny with her spit and precome.

“You’re saying you want to leave this?” She clenches down on him, hot walls squeezing tightly around him, and he has to swallow down a yelp. She laughs, but even in his lust-consumed mind, Taehyung can tell it’s hollow. “You can’t. Even when you’ll fuck her, you’ll think of me, of this. You’ll think of how hard I make you come. Every. Fucking. Time.”

Her words sink into his skin and burn. He hates how she always knows exactly what to say to get under his skin. He’s gripped by the fear she might be right. What if he can never escape her? What if he keeps on giving in every time? 

She moves her hips in tantalizing circles, oblivious to his inner struggle. 

“You might not love me,” she hisses, hand wrapping around the column of his throat. She doesn’t squeeze, doesn’t choke him like he knows she’s capable of, but the added weight on his neck still makes him feel lightheaded. “You might not love me baby, but you sure as fuck love my pussy.”

And with that she slams her hips into his hard, the loud, wet noise echoing in his ears. The abrupt move has his hands scrambling to find purchase on something, anything; he clutches her thighs, hoping it’ll anchor him to reality. His vision spins, unsure of how much more he can endure. He feels the muscles beneath his fingertips tense with every sinful rock of her hips. She’s used to this position and Taehyung knows she can go for a long time like this.  

“Don’t you?” Her usual velvety voice has turned into a growl and his spine straightens at the sound. Her features twist unnaturally, her statuesque beauty morphing into something much more menacing.

He can feel her nails through his sweater, scratching down his chest, can feel her hot walls pulsing around him. 

“I—fuck,” he grunts, clenching his jaw in his effort not to give in.

It’s much too hot. The sweater he’s been told to keep on does nothing to calm down his racing pulse. He’s drenched in sweat, his chest heaving.

“You love the way I fuck you,” she taunts between heavy pants, equally affected. “If you want to come, I have to hear you say it.”

A loud whimper escapes him as his eyes shut close in defeat. “Yes! Yes, yes. Fuck, I love it.”

She rewards him my quickening the maddening swivel of her hips. “Good boy…” 

He can hear her smirk triumphantly, “tell me what you love about me.”

“I love it. I love the way you f-fuck me – oh god! I love your pussy. I love it, I love it,” he chants brokenly, completely lost to the pleasure.

“Is that right?” Her pace is more frantic now, her breath labored. She must be nearing her end, too. Taehyung exhales in relief—this means his pleasure is finally within reach. 

She leans forward and tugs the silk around his neck between her fingers. The tight hold around his throat cuts off his breathing and the lack of oxygen makes him dizzier than he already is. 

“Don’t come until I tell you,” she warns, still rocking her hips at a dangerous pace.

The figure above him starts to blur until all he can focus on is the drag of her hot walls against him. It gets increasingly hard to follow her demands when his release is so close he can taste it. The obscene noises of skin slapping and low grunts fill the spacious apartment. With a last burst of energy, she lurches, hips still undulating even as he feels her quiver and clench around him. 

When she raises himself off of him, he is nervous, too afraid that she’ll leave him like this as punishment for leaving her. He wouldn’t put it past her. His cock twitches as the cool air hits it, dripping in her juices. 

“Come now,” she orders him, breathing still uneven from her orgasm.

Instantly, he grasps his hot length in his hand, desperation making his movements sloppy. His cock is so wet that his hand slides over his member with ease, seeking relief. It doesn’t take long—three, four rushed strokes—when he finally bucks his hips upwards as waves of rippling pleasure overcome him. His new sweater and pants are splattered in white traces of his arousal.

There’s so much of it, he notices, glancing down. His ensemble might cost thousands of dollars, but instead of feeling fancy and polished, he only feels filthy, soaked in sweat and cum. He’ll have to carry the soiled clothes on the way back home, showing anyone who passes by just how dirty he is. He closes his eyes, distinctly aware of the smell of sex and her perfume. He wants a shower badly but he’s too proud to ask her for anything more. 

She cups his cheek into her hand, forcing him to look at her. “You did a good job…" she praises, smile a little strained. “Now, when you wear these clothes, you’ll always think back to this moment, of how good you’ll always be for me.”

He wants to wipe the smugness off her face, wants to argue that this is the last time he’ll ever be hers. No… In truth he was never hers to begin with—never completely, never in the way that mattered. He wants to remind her but something in the way she looks at him tells him she already knows.

He vows to get rid of the clothes as soon as he can and erase her from his memories.

.

.

Taehyung keeps every gift she’s sent him.

He’s not proud of it – he wishes he could cut her out of his life for good. But Taehyung’s body was made susceptible to the desires of the flesh, and he doesn’t have it in him to give up on the priceless clothes that are now his.

He tells himself he won’t regret his decision, that walking away from that life was the better choice. Still, despite all rational thought, he finds himself still anticipating Siyeon’s packages every morning. It feels like he’s going through a withdrawal and wonders if there’s something wrong with him.

Keeping his troubles to himself is difficult… He wants to come clean and get everything off his chest but he’s still afraid that his friends and family will judge him and look down on him. Instead of confiding in someone he knows, he does some research online. Somehow, it’s relieving to find out he’s not the only who feels the way he does.  

It takes a while, but he slowly starts to get back on track. He realizes that being a sugar baby had been a way of escaping his burdensome reality of student loans and wobbly future. He had let himself believe it could be a means to an end… In retrospect, he had only been stalling, refusing to acknowledge his problems. Even if he still hasn’t figured out the rest of his life, he is learning to focus on the present. 

These days, his studies take up most of his time. He finally finishes his photography project he’s been neglecting for weeks. It’s funny how he believed being a sugar baby was a way to distract him from his stressful life. Now that he’s stopped, Taehyung feels a lot better, no longer worried about being caught or asked unwanted questions. He only notices now, but he had been skirting social obligations and inadvertently ignoring his friends. He’s lucky they have forgiven him for being a dick and silently promises to make it up to them. 

He promises to make it up to you, too. He knows leaving the sugar baby life behind can’t miraculously fix everything between the two of you but time has allowed the both of you to repair your friendship even if there’s still that elephant in the room.

Taehyung can wait. He’s okay with waiting if it comes to you. Really, he’s just grateful you’re back on speaking terms with him. Not being able to spend time with you normally and talking to you regularly had been painful, and he never wants to go through that again.

Taehyung can wait, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want you so much it sometimes physically hurts. It’s like his feelings have been magnified tenfold. Selfishly, he hopes you still feel the same way about him, even if it’s been weeks since your confession. When he converses with you now, he can’t tell if you do or don’t. The playful banter is back and there’s certainly some kind of tension that sparks between the two of you, but he needs verbal confirmation. He doesn’t want to pressure you though. And he certainly doesn’t want to put a strain on the relationship that had taken so long to repair.

It’s a Saturday night when the long awaited shift finally occurs.

He’s long since used to your eccentricities but he still stops and stares at your crouched form. You’re clutching one of his shoes, head almost buried inside… For a moment, he’s worried you’ve finally lost it.

“Um… Why…” he tilts his head in confusion. “Why are you sniffing my shoes?”

You jump, startled, but turn around to look at him accusingly.

“I’m not sniffing!” you protest hotly. “I was checking the label.”

The label? 

His eyes blow wide open in realization and he struggles to find a plausible excuse. 

“Care to explain why you own,” you check your phone. “Shoes that cost almost one grand?”

He gulps. He knew he should have tried to be less conspicuous. 

“Tae, I have eyes! Coming home at weird hours of the night, receiving mysterious packages every morning… You’re able to afford all this,” you gesture at his leather belt, his shiny watch. “A couple months ago you had trouble paying your rent, and now you want me to believe you suddenly have enough money to buy nine hundred dollar shoes? Tae… look at these!”

You flap around the shoe in disdain. “Do you know how much pizza you can buy with that kind of money? Why would you waste it on slippers?”

He fights down the urge to argue that they aren’t just any slippers. They’re Gucci. The fur lining feels heavenly between his toes, something other brands can’t compete with. Of course you wouldn’t care about that… You have no interest in fashion. You wouldn’t be able to spot a counterfeit Gucci purse even if he shoves one under your nose… which is probably the reason why you have never noticed he’s been walking around in hundred dollar clothes for months.

“I- I can explain, __,” he mumbles, feeling his hands get clammy.

“You’re a drug dealer, I know,” you sigh in a resigned manner. “Or at least you were one. I’m glad you finally got yourself together, Tae.”

“Ah—what?” He blinks owlishly, trying to process what you’ve just said. In another situation he would have laughed at how certain you seem. Him? A drug dealer? He’s not sure if he should be relieved you provided him an excuse or offended. 

“Also… I know you like fashion but please refrain from buying hideous monstrosities next time.” 

He knows now is the perfect time to confess, to come clean and finally get his secret off his chest. He says your name softly, trying to gather his courage.

“It’s not what you think… I haven’t been dealing drugs.” He tries to ignore the way your eyebrows shoot up questioningly. He has to tell you the truth. “I’ve had a… uhh… sponsor.”

He’s not sure what term to use, which one is closer to the truth and which one will make him appear dishonorable. He wants to give you his honesty, but he also doesn’t want you to see him as something dirty either.

“A sponsor?” You knit your brows in confusion. “Tae… You mean like a sugar daddy?”

“Kind of… She…” He fidgets, trying to find the right words to describe Siyeon. “There wasn’t a contractual agreement or anything. I’d provide sexual services and she would send me gifts.”

“And she… you let her do things to you?”

“Don’t say it like that…” He looks down, regretful. “I’m an adult, I gave my full consent. We never did anything I didn’t like… She just wanted sex.”

Seconds tick by before you’re able to form your next words.

“What did you do?”

The tone of your voice has Taehyung looking back up in surprise. Instead of seeing the disgust he expects in your eyes, there is only curiosity.

“Did she tie you up?” 

He hesitates, can feel his ears turn pink. He never envisioned a scenario in which you would react this way and he flounders for an answer.

“Sometimes,” he finally admits.

“And you liked it? You like being tied down?” You ask eagerly, drawing closer to him.

“What else did she do? She’s the kind of woman to make you beg, right?”

He inhales sharply at your words, feeling weirdly turned on. 

“Isn’t that what you want to do to me?” he retorts, surprising himself by his audacity.

He’s used to poking fun at you but this kind of sexual banter he’s unused to. It feels different, new, and he would be lying if he said he doesn’t want to explore that territory. 

“Maybe,” you answer with a swipe to your bottom lip. 

Fuck… That’s hot. He’s never imagined you as the dominant type, but all he can think about now is you jerking him off while his hands are tied up. Or maybe you would tell him to eat you out on the kitchen table. He would do it all. He wants you so much… He can’t count the number of times he’s thought of you pleasuring yourself from across the hall. He remembers that one time he had caught you moaning into your pillow late one night when he had gotten up for a bathroom break. The muffled sounds had given him enough spank bank material for months.

“Are you picturing me doing that right now?” you interrupt, grinning. “That’s naughty. I’m right here in front of you.”

“Can’t help it,” he confesses sheepishly. “I’ve wanted you far too long.”

Taehyung’s eyes trail downwards, distracted by your nipples that have hardened under your flimsy top. He imagines how soft your breasts would feel in his large hands, how loud you would get for him when he would bite and suck marks into your skin. 

“Tae…” you suddenly turn serious, biting your lip in the way that tells him you’re thinking hard about something. “I’m not going to fuck you.”

He swallows thickly, nodding in understanding. Of course you wouldn’t want to fuck him. Why would you want to after he told you his secret? You probably can’t look at him the say way.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you declare, a pink hue coloring your cheeks. “I do actually… I really do. I just think we shouldn’t rush into this…”

“You do?” he repeats back, relief washing over his features. “Ah, then that’s fine, doll. I can wait. We can wait together. You’re right… I haven’t even taken you out on a date. My parents taught me better.”

You laugh at him, hitting his arm. It’s only then he realizes you still have his fucking Gucci slipper in your grasp. 

“I’m so fucking horny right now though…” You lick your lips, eyeing his bulge hungrily. “I’m going to go disappear in my room for a bit to…take care of things.”

“Ah fuck,” he groans, imagining you thrusting your fingers in your wet pussy, crying out his name as you approached your peak. “That’s fucking hot. Fuck… Tell me what you’re going to do.”

“Why don’t you tell me what you’re going to do?” you smile mischievously.

“Me? You know I’m gonna come all over my hand thinking of you across the hall fucking yourself. I’m going to wish I was there with you. Fuck, okay, so I’ve thought about eating you out a lot. I bet you taste so fucking good…” He knows he’s working himself up but he can’t seem to stop. His cock is so fucking hard he wants to palm it but he somehow manages to keep his hands still at his side. “I bet you’ll drip all over my tongue, fuck. I can’t wait until you let me eat you out like you deserve.”

You shiver once, eyes shutting close. He wonders if you’re imagining him sinking to his knees, ready to worship your body like he knows you both want.

It’s fucking torture having you so close but unable to touch you. He’s used to controlling his pleasure but you seem to have more difficulty. Taehyung notes how your thighs rub together in a poor attempt at satisfying yourself, eyeing the spot between your legs greedily. Fuck, he swears he can smell you from where he is. The sweet aroma tempts him to break your rules. 

“Tae,” you moan quietly. The sound has his ears instantly perk up, and he continues talking, wanting to see you feel good.

“You realize I can smell you through your jeans, right? You must be really turned on right now… If you told me to take off your jeans I bet I would find you soaked. So good… Ah fuck, I really want to taste you. Would you like to ride my face? I’ll make it feel good, I promise.”

“Tae… Uh, remember what I said about no fucking? I kind of take it back,” you squirm, legs almost crossing in your effort to find friction.

“You can’t do that,” he grunts in complaint. “I’m going to treat you right, okay? That means food before fucking.”

“Why did you have to make me so fucking horny?” you whine, features scrunching up in frustration.

“You asked me what I wanted to do to you!” He laughs at your disheveled state. “You think I would stop at oral sex? After you come on my face, you’ll take my cock like the big girl I know you are. Maybe we can use your pink vibrator to warm you up… Even though it’s nothing compared to my cock.”

“Oh my—wait… How the fuck do you know about my pink vibrator? Tae!”

He ignores you. “How do you like it, doll? I bet you like it really rough, right?”

“I do,” you nod, distracted once again by the low husky notes in his voice. “You’ll give me what I want?”

“You can just take it. I’m fine with you using my dick when you need it.” He cracks a grin, winking saucily.

“Tae!” You snort down a laugh. “Okay, we said no sex, right?”

“Not until I feed you. That was the consensual agreement.”

“But you’ll give me what I want if I ask you to?”

He raises an eyebrow in question. “What did you have in mind?”

“Want to sit on your lap…” you say quietly, fingers reaching to grab at his shirt. “I really need to come.”

He takes in your flushed cheeks and dilated pupils, and swipes his tongue over his dry lips in agreement. How can he refuse you when that’s all he wants and more? He takes a seat on the couch and waits with hooded eyes as you clamber into his lap. The way you plop down is far from graceful but he finds it endearing how eager you are for him.

“Tae, can we try something? I read it online and thought it was hot.” When he gives his consent you continue, voice trembling with excitement. “Can I try riding your thigh? It’s supposed to be sexy…”

He visibly shudders under you, the image of you using him to get off too much to handle. 

“Yeah,” he murmurs, the corners of his mouth curving into a pleased smirk. 

He’s caught off guard when you lean in to kiss him—softness melting against him like snow. It takes a moment to realize that you are kissing him, but when it fully registers, he’s cupping your cheeks and pulling you closer. Distantly, he notes how long it’s been since he’s kissed someone. He doesn’t ever remember kissing Siyeon and she was the person he had been with for months. You bite his lower lip, tongue tracing the seam of his mouth, fingers running through the hair at his nape. 

He thinks kissing you might be his new favorite thing. He loves the way you mold against him, as if he was made just for you. There’s a fluttering feeling in his chest he can’t shake, and with every press of your lips over his his, the feeling only intensifies. It’s a warm, comfortable tingle that makes his toes curl. 

He’s so lost in your hot kisses that he barely notices when you start to rock your hips against his thigh. It’s a bit awkward at first, but you quickly disregard any sense of propriety as you lose yourself to the tingles of pleasure that zap through your body. Your small moans make him grunt in response and he has to constantly remind himself that this is for you, not him. He can always go get himself off in the shower later thinking back to this exact moment.

“You’re so pretty, __” he praises, mouth agape as he worships you with his gaze. “You’re so pretty riding my thigh. Does it feel good rubbing your needy clit against me? Hmm? Tell me how good it feels for you.”

“Ah… kind of… bony,” you pant out, sweat beading at your forehead.

“Bony?”

“Your thighs are kind of bony but it…” You blow a strand away from your face as your pace quickens. He can feel your heat through the ridges of his jeans and imagines how much more satisfying it would feel without the layers separating the two of you. “It feels good. I think I can come like this… Oh god!”

He presses your hips down harder against his thigh, desperately needing to see you fall apart. He doesn’t know where to focus his gaze—eyes darting from your face to your heaving chest, to the frantic roll of your hips. He needs to commit every detail to memory. 

“Tae I think—”

“That’s right,” he encourages. “Will you let me see you come? I want to see you so badly… I need it. I need to hear you, need to feel you soak through your jeans.”

The dirty talk seems to get you off, and with a loud shout of his name you come. The sight is so delicious he has half a mind to come in his pants as well, but he somehow manages to hold off.

You collapse into his arms, head resting in the crook of his neck damp with sweat. He’s still hard as a rock, but his need to orgasm is only secondary to his desire to hold you close. 

He threads his fingers through your hair, short fingernails scratching your scalp pleasantly. He presses light kisses on the crown of your head, inhaling the familiar fresh scent of jasmine soap that belongs to you. 

Taehyung doesn’t know why he was so worried about being intimate with you. You two haven’t even had sex yet but he already knows with you it will feel different from anything he’s ever had.

His flesh is weak, easily tempted and swayed by the promises of satisfying sex and the ostentatious. Admittedly, he has little to offer you. He’s unable to express his feelings in measurements like carats. 

But he realizes now that all that is gold does not glitter: that love and affection can’t be bought. Siyeon hadn’t been able to turn his attraction into love no matter how many pricey gifts she provided him. What you offer him is much more valuable than any Gucci sweaters or monogrammed Burberry scarves.

I love you.

Words he has never allowed himself to say rest on the tip of his tongue. He’s tempted to let them spill from his lips, but he would rather wait and savor the taste in his mouth.

.

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a/n: okay i need to thank a lot of mutuals who helped me with this :’D my number one smut consultant @bxebxee ;; also @noona-la-la-la @btssmutgalore @authorose who gave me helpful sub smut advice and the only fem dom in my life @tayegi:’) @mint-tape and @floralseokjin also shared links on fem doms and male orgasms :’’’) and @yoongihime and @seaseok for reading over some of the writing !! ♡ also @taesthetes and and @taeverie who encouraged me to the end ;;;

this list is quite long >.< but i was only able to finish this cursed sub tae fic with your help so tysm and ily all !!!

(+ title is taken from tolkien’s poem in lotr lmao)